


stay made of lightning

by crementea



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, Superhero Harry, Superhero Liam, Superhero Louis, Zayn had powers but he and Niall are both only there for like a second, also the ending is more than a bit abrupt, blink and you'll miss them, my bad - Freeform, this is mainly about Louis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-09
Updated: 2014-11-09
Packaged: 2018-02-24 16:45:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2588840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crementea/pseuds/crementea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis has the power to heal people physically and can occasionally turn invisible (Okay, he did it <em>once</em>.. He hasn't quite figured that part out yet).</p><p>Harry can teleport.</p><p>Liam is super strong, figures. </p><p>They're all thrown together somehow and use their powers to keep the city safe.</p><p> </p><p>basically, a drabble where they have some superpowers and Louis feels just a little inadequate sometimes</p>
            </blockquote>





	stay made of lightning

**Author's Note:**

> So, i wrote this at 4/5 in the morning and then proceeded to post it without proofreading at all.. deeply sorry for that
> 
> The title is from Girl Almighty
> 
>  
> 
> There is no truth to this, obviously.  
> Completely fiction and inspired by the first 30 seconds of the most recent XMen film

Louis is four years old the first time he uses his powers, and he doesn't even realize he's doing anything. 

He remembers his Mum preparing dinner while he sat on the floor in the area where the kitchen ended and the living room began, playing with his Superman and red Power Ranger action figures. Over the sound effects coming from his mouth, he heard his mother hiss in pain from where she was cutting vegetables just a few feet away. Louis didn't much care for vegetables. 

"Mum?" Little Louis asked.

He let his arms go limp and lowered his toys as he looked toward her, he blew a puff of air at his fringe where it had fallen into his line of vision. Louis watched as she grabbed the dish towel from it's place beside the sink and wrapped it tightly around her fingers. His eyes tracked the movement as a red drop fell from his mother's hand and landed on the white tile of the kitchen floor. He had seen blood before. When he got _'too rowdy'_ while he was playing, running without enough caution around obstacles or riding his bike too quickly in the dirt. Blood usually brought tears, and tears meant pain. He didn't like the thought of his mother in pain. 

"Mummy, are you hurting?" He questioned. Eyebrows furrowing together nervously beneath his fringe, fingers uncurling from around his action figures as he let them fall to the floor between his legs completely. 

"No, no. I'm alright, dear." She had reassured him, squeezing the cloth around her fingers a bit tighter as she spoke again, "Why don't you go wash up? Dinner will be ready in just a few minutes." 

Louis' eyes flickered back to the blood spot on the floor suspiciously. Blood meant pain, right? 

"Boo," His Mum encouraged, "Go wash up, Mummy's fine." 

And Louis wasn't one for arguing with his mother, so he nodded, gathering his toys to drop in the basket beside the sofa as he headed to the bathroom to wash his hands. 

 

Later that night, Louis was curled into his mother's lap as they watched cartoons on the telly. He loved nights sat with his Mum on the sofa, her fingers combing soothingly through his hair, lulling him slowly into sleep after a long day of running around. Usually, it was his dad, Mark, who was with him on weeknights while his mother worked late shifts at the hospital, but tonight his dad was away on business in London. So, he was happy to have the presence of his Mum for the evening. 

The hand that was not occupied with gently petting Louis' hair came to sit in his lap, slowly smoothing out the creases in his plaid pajama bottoms, and his sleepy eyes came to rest on the deep cut on his Mum's index finger. It had dried in the hours since dinnertime, but it still showed the remains of blood lining the slit in her skin. Louis' tiny hands had moved slowly to grasp her finger, she gasped at the pain prickling at the initial contact, but didn't pull away. So, he continued to lay sleepily on his mother's chest, gripping the base of her finger with one hand and petting gently near the cut with his other. 

Blood meant pain, and his Mum was too lovely for pain. 

Louis' eyes had drooped closed after only a couple minutes of mindlessly petting his mother's hand while watching the television, unaware of the skin beneath his fingers slowly beginning to patch itself back together, slowly mending as if the cut was never there. 

 

The next morning when he asked his mother how she fixed her cut so fast, (and _did you get new plasters?_ _Could I use them on the cut on my shoulder?_ _It's still hurting!_ ), she sat him down on a stool in the kitchen and explained to him slowly that he was one of the few lucky boys and girls in the world.

"You've a power just like Spiderman, boo." She had told him, "Only yours is much more special, because you don't always need to be there to take care of people, you're gonna be able to fix them even if something happens that no one can stop. D'you understand, lovely?"

And Louis didn't, not really. But as time went on, he began to a little more. And when he disappeared a few months later on the car ride from from the grocery shop, his Mum swerving the car upon glancing into the backseat and seeing it empty of her son, he had only been confused more. He had told her with a tiny, wavering voice that he was right there, he knew he was, the uncomfortable strap of his booster seat was still digging into his belly, but he could no longer see his face in the rearview mirror. 

He had only just began to grasp the concept of his healing power, and having his Mum explain to him that he had _another_ , just confused poor little Louis all over again. 

And his invisibility was more difficult to figure out than the healing had been. He could fix a cut or a bruise on someone if he focussed on ridding of their pain hard enough, but no matter what he thought about, he couldn't find a focus point to hide himself. It was uncontrollable. 

 

Louis had a handle on his healing power by the time he was eight, and it came in handy quite often. His best friend, Niall, who was just a grade below Louis, got hurt quite often. The thing was, Niall would do almost anything Louis said. If Louis suggested the boy remove the handlebars from his bicycle and attempt to steer without them, Niall  _would_. And Louis found it absolutely  _brilliant._

But, alas, Louis' dares and prompts often lead to deep cuts in Niall's knee and broken fingers on more than a couple occasions. And like,  _that was okay_ , because even though Niall would be crying most of the time, he'd laugh just to make Louis feel better, and after Louis had healed his injuries, Niall would wipe under his eyes, brush the dirt off himself, and ask Louis what he wanted to do next.

Niall was great friend, and he thought Louis was _so cool_ , even cooler because of his powers, but Louis couldn't help feeling inadequate at times. 

He knew he should be grateful, he  _had_  powers, and as Niall often reminded him,  _most people don't get to have any powers_ , but what did Louis really have? 

Louis could fix a paper cut―Not very incredible. He could fix a broken bone or _two_  if he had enough energy, but he couldn't fix anything that happened to himself  _and_ he still had no control over his invisibility. He'd seen people with powers a  _million_ times cooler, stronger, more controllable, or helpful than his own.

There had been a kid in Louis' Reading and Writing course last term named Zayn, with dark hair, a bright smile, and a year 9 reading level. Zayn could, like,  _move stuff_ without doing anything physically. Sometimes, they'd be sitting in class, reading aloud from their course book, and a tissue would just float through the air until it got to the kid's desk. Louis would watch enviously as the boy would blow his nose and then use his mind to make the tissue take  _itself_ to the bin at the front of the room. Other times, Zayn would get his pencil to sharpen itself at the teacher's desk during an exam, using a spare to continue writing so as not to waste any valuable time.

And, how would a power like  _that_ not be more useful in a fight―like, a  _real fight_ ―against villains? Zayn could just use his big brain to make the bad guy drop his weapon and then drag him into jail without so much as lifting a damn finger. 

All in all, Louis figured he could've gotten  _much_  better superpowers. 

 

It wasn't really even, like, a  _thing_ when Harry came into Louis' life. It happened so slowly, their lives melting together from the start of their university careers.  It had been like one second, they were best mates, floating from spending long nights playing FIFA and eating pizza or cramming for an exam in their  Power Management lecture, and then the next second they had been completely living out of one another's pockets. They had gone seamlessly from friendly cuddles on the single bed in Harry's dorm to spending study breaks pressing breathless kisses into each other's mouths. 

Harry was beautiful in a way that he never really had to try. His eyes were big and green and dazzling no matter how late he had stayed awake the night before. His curls dried on their own into a soft mop on his head. He was tall and long and lean and able to charm anyone and everyone he came in contact with. 

Harry could teleport. And Louis had been jealous at first, of course he had, but he learned to thrive it it because Harry could roll out of bed, pull on a pair of joggers and a tshirt and be back twenty seconds later with two cups of tea from the canteen across campus. Harry could press a loving kiss against Louis' lips and be gone and back a couple minutes later with library books they needed, crêpes from actual Paris, or photographs of landmarks halfway across the globe that they could put in their powerpoint for a school project. 

Harry's power would be worlds more useful as a Hero, but most of the time, instead of feeling jealous, Louis just felt proud. 

And on the odd nights where Louis _did_ feel a little jealous and he _did_ feel a bit inadequate, Harry was there. Louis' head rested in Harry's chest, and his hair knotted around Harry's fingers, their legs tangled together, and Harry's lips pressed against Louis' forehead and his cheekbone and the crest of his ear. Harry would murmur reassurances and loving words to Louis for hours at a time:

"Some people take decades to figure out how to control their powers, Lou."

"Being able to heal people and take away their pain is so much more important than any other superpower, babe." 

"Love you so much. You'll figure it out, love. Someday you'll see how important you are. I love you so, so much." 

And Louis really loved him too. 

 

By the time they had graduated Uni, Liam had already found his way into their group. They'd go out in patrols of the city, and most of the time, The Firm assigns randomly, groups being put together and broken up often enough that each one of them would get the chance to work with a person having every sort of power. But it was different for Louis, Harry and Liam. From the start, they'd requested to be put together on patrol, too scared and nervous to go out with a group of strangers who have powers they'd barely seen before. Most often, these requests are overruled and overlooked, but somehow, by the luck of the draw, The Firm had accepted their request and set their group in stone.

Due to Louis' lack of control in his invisibility, there really isn't much he can do in the actual combat of a fight, the risk of him getting himself hurt and then not being able to help anyone else too great. So, he's stuck hiding in the shadows while Liam and Harry do the actual work. Louis watches everything attentively, eyes alert as he follows the movement of Liam forcefully shoving a villain into the side of a car, denting the metal frame of the door and shattering the glass of the windows. His eyes move quickly back and forth to watch as Harry moves from wrestling with a bad guy to standing by the side of another to rid him of his gun and back to the one he was wrestling in just seconds. Louis watches from behind the corners of buildings and behind parked cars for any innocent bystanders who might get hurt amidst all the action. And in a situation where someone is hurt so badly that it cannot be put on hold until they've finished, Louis rushes out to fix their broken bones and mend their deepest cuts. 

 

It's loud.

There is so much screaming and people are running every which way and the police can't get enough of a handle on the citizens to get them out of the way of the battle going on around them. 

Harry must be handling things on his own at this point because Liam in laying on the ground beneath Louis and he honest to god cannot remember if anyone else was assigned to their patrol this morning. Louis can feel the waves of heat pumping from his chest, rolling down his arms and into the place where his hands are pressing into the large hole in Liam's bicep.

He doesn't even understand how it had happened, watching from the side of a telephone booth a few yards away, he had seen it, had seen the way the man had shoved a rod of metal framing from a car through Liam's arm. He'd seen it, but he's still in shock at how strong the other man must've been, how much it must've taken to press the fragment of metal all the way through the amount of muscle tissue in Liam's arms. 

Louis is putting so much focus on the place where his skin meets Liam's, he's centering all of his attention to pumping the heat from his chest into the wound. His chest is aching with the effort, with the power it's using to heal so much so quickly, but he  _needs_  quickly because Liam needs to get back out there, needs to help  _Harry_ in the way that Louis can't. 

" _GO!_ " Liam is shouting at him, but it's muffled in Louis' ears, he can't focus on anything but the blood seeping through his fingers and the aching in his chest as he uses more and more energy. He could stop now, it's healed enough that it will only cause a bit of pain while he's fighting, but it will hurt about a million times more for Liam if Louis stops and tries to finish it later, given that the metal had pierced all the way through to the other side, it had cracked and chipped the _bones_ in his upper arm, fuck. 

Louis is so focussed. Is always determined not to let his attention falter from the person he's healing, because it takes so much focus if he wants it done perfectly and quickly and with the least amount of pain possible for the person injured. Like, having your bones tendons moved around beneath the skin and mended back together hurts no matter how it's done and Louis just wants it done in the best, least painful way possible  _always_.

But, Louis' so focussed that he can't hear what Liam is yelling at him, can only see his lips moving in his peripheral vision. Louis can't hear the way he's shouting at him to  _move out of the way, Louis you need to_   **go**. So, he doesn't see where one of the bad guys has thrown one knife, and then another, straight at him from behind. 

Harry had looked up at the sound of Louis' name being yelled from Liam's lips, eyes searching until they found Louis, kneeling above him with his face pinched in a combination of pain and concentration. He sees just as the man's arms are pulling back to throw the knives, knows no matter how quickly he could transport, it isn't enough time to get there  _and_ back with Louis and Liam.

" _Lou!_ " He shouts across the crowded street, regardless of if Louis hears him, there's nothing Louis would be able to do to save himself. Harry barely has time to think before he's leaving whoever he was fighting and reappearing behind Louis. 

Louis has looked back at the sound of Harry shouting his name, will  _always_  give up his attention if there's a chance that Harry could be hurt, but when he looks back, he doesn't find Harry hurt. When Louis looks back, he sees knives whizzing through the air, he's barely closed his eyes for the impact before he hears Harry's cry of pain. 

As soon as his hands are off of Liam, the bigger boy jumps from the ground and rushes to take Harry's place, fighting as many people as he can at once all on his own. 

Louis' hands move to Harry immediately, pulling the knives from his chest and shoulder as quickly and smoothly as he can, murmuring soft apologies when Harry moans loudly. 

"You're a fucking idiot, I love you so much." Louis says to him as he presses a hand into each of the deep wounds. 

There is so much blood. An abundance of blood is  _never_  a good sign. The knives have cut through large veins and muscle tissue, and Louis is so, so scared, because he's not sure if he's ever had to heal someone with injuries so serious, especially not when he's already used up so much of his energy on someone else. 

Harry's breathing is so erratic, Louis can feel it in the rise and fall of his chest from where his hands are pressed into his shirt. Harry's breathing goes from shallow and slow, to fast and wheezing, to not breathing at all for a few seconds as he tenses up with the pain. Louis' fingertips are pressing into the muscles of Harry's chest and shoulder and blood is pouring over his hands and dripping onto the sidewalk, running into a dark pool on the pavement.

Louis' not sure he's ever felt this in tune with the things going on around him as he heals someone. The aching in his heart is deeper than he's ever felt, like someone has pressed a vacuum against him and has begun to suck everything out of him dryly through his chest. But, throughout the pain and the heat rolling down his arms and into Harry, his eyes flicker back and forth around them. He watches through the chaos on the street, watches for anyone who might try to hurt Harry again― _Again_ , because Harry is so injured and Louis' fingers are sticky and hot with his boyfriend's blood and he's still so scared. 

Louis' eyes flutter shut every few seconds, he's used up more energy than he thought he even _had_ , and his eyes can't have been closed for more than a second, but when they flicker through the rushing people on his left, he can see the moment one of the men begins to raise his gun to point at him and Harry. He can't think, he's so scared and his eyes move back to Harry, maybe to say a wordless  _I'm sorry_ , but when he looks below him there's nothing there. 

There's nothing there but he can still feel where his fingers are pressed against Harry, but like, he can't even see his fingers, or his arms, it's all just _gone_. 

He hasn't been able to use his invisibility since the _first time_ , when he was four years old and in the backseat of his Mum's car, and now, he's definitely invisible and so is Harry. 

Louis looks back to the man, whose eyebrows have furrowed in confusion as he looks around for his target, thinking they must've teleported somewhere else in the vicinity. Louis chokes out a pained, relieved laugh, catching Harry's attention as the boy jumps beneath his hot fingers. 

"You did it, Lou." 


End file.
